52 Miles of Minding the Ducks

In 12 hours you can drive from Rochester to Nashville. You can fly from New York City to Hawaii or Sweden.

Yesterday I ran over 52 miles in 12 hours, roughly the distance from Rochester to Seneca Falls.

In a runner's high coming off my 50K in early March, I put my name on the wait list for Mind the Ducks, a 12-hour race on a one-mile loop of paved trail at North Ponds Park in Webster. Less then 48 hours later I was off the wait list and in the race.

Because Mind the Ducks was a whim, I had low expectations. I approached the race as an experiment in what happens to my mind and body if I run over 6 hours - the time it took me to complete my 50K.

Suffice to to say, I learned a lot.

The Strategy of a Timed Race

Running a race based on time and not distance is tricky and disorienting. All runners are on the course at the same time. There is no point to sprinting out the gate, and you can't hurry up and get the race over with. Slow and steady wins the race. There were three turtles on the race course at various times that reminded me of this wisdom.

A timed race like this invites many novice long distance runners because there is a comfortable time limit to ensure completing your first marathon or even 50K. Many runners stopped when they hit a satisfying distance. A handful hung on the whole time.

I didn't have a plan. I toyed with the idea of running, walking and eating at scheduled intervals, but ultimately I decided to run on feel. I had a strong first 15 miles. Slowly I started to unravel. A pattern developed that the middle miles of every 10 were my worst - 16, 26, 36 and 46. After running strong from the marathon to the 50K distance, I hit my lowest low around mile 36. My feet hurt and I didn't know what to do to help them.

I'd been told that sitting is the worst thing you can do in a race because you won't want to get up. I had to risk it. I stopped at the transition area, sat with friends around a picnic table and drank a beer. It revived me. I was a new woman and cranked out almost 5 more miles before I had the urge to take walk breaks again.

Breaking 40 miles was a huge mile stone. I had enough time left on the clock that I knew I could hit 50 miles, even if I had to do more walking than running. Nevertheless, it was a struggle to get to 50.

I decided to run the last two miles before 50 as strong as I could. When I hit 50, my friends were at the finish cheering me on to do at least two more laps. Doing so would bring my mileage to twice the 26. 2 mile marathon distance, the added benefit being an extra race reward. I dug deep and managed to run the two miles with time to spare. Maybe I had time to squeeze in one more, but I was satisfied.

Lessons

Making forward progress for the better part of 12 hours I had lots of time to think and rethink about the course, what I wanted to eat, how much I love my friends and how stupid it was to sign up for this race.

First, I didn't mind the short course. It was easy to gauge pace and the weather was dramatically different on one side than the other, which added balance and prevented boredom. One side was viciously windy. Volunteers at the aid station had to configure a border around the table top to prevent drinks from blowing over. Spectators wore their hoodies up. On the other side, spectators were sunbathing and fishing.

Although this race was "Mind the Ducks," I only saw one mallard, but many more geese and their fuzzy goslings. The turtles were a nice touch. The largest I saw was a foot in diameter, the smallest, 1-inch.

As for food, I brought dates, gels and Honey Stinger waffles. I ate one of each and ended up relying on the aid station. I favored peanut butter and jelly, Fig Newtons, ginger ale and water. The importance of the beer at mile 36 cannot be understated - nor can the support of the many friends and family on hand for the event.

The one mile course meant someone was cheering for you every mile. (Never mind that my son said he didn't recognize me because my hair "looked crazy.") It was a boost to see friends from TrailsRoc and many others I've run without throughout the year. Seeing them gave me strength and pushed me through self doubt.

And, oh, there were times when I wanted to quit. Running long distances, the desire to quit and the desire to carry on sit in a delicate balance. The scale tips wildly one way or the other, moment to moment.

When I hit the marathon mark I knew I could stop and still be proud of my mileage. And yet, I knew I had to go on. I knew I wouldn't be satisfied if I stopped without a physical reason to compel me.

Then I hit the 50K mark almost 25 minutes before my finish time in Florida. This success was followed by another low just a few miles later accompanied by miles of ruminating over the impossibility of running for 12 hours. I can't describe the helplessness of having run eight hours and knowing you still have four more to go.

In spite of the hours of pounding, other than my feet hurting, my body held up. My joints were fine and, surprisingly, my IT band didn't hurt.

I never found an excuse good enough to quit.

Now What?

I'm officially a 50-miler and, like many warned me I would be, in love with Mind the Ducks. It was a classy, low stress, highly-organized event. First-time race director Egils Robs was attentive to every detail, such as asking runners via Facebook what they wanted at aid stations. He even wore a suit at the beginning of the race.

I woke up the day after the race feeling better than I imagined. Other than some sunburn and tight hips, I don't feel much different than I did after my 50K. Already the "what ifs" have started. What if I ran one more mile? What if I didn't have that beer? What if I was running on trails and didn't have an aid station every mile?

In the world of running, there are plenty of unknown variables. I look forward to discovering more as I press on in my ultra journey.